


Instinct over Desire

by Selfmanic



Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Transformation, F/F, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selfmanic/pseuds/Selfmanic
Summary: Clint Barton is a Red Tag, a shifter working for Shield, desperate to find somewhere that accepts him completely, Cat and all.
Relationships: Clint Barton/T'Challa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Shield

_There were certain facts that Clint accepted without a second of doubt._

_He was only as useful as his abilities._

_Trust was earned._

_No one liked a shifter._

Shield meant three meals a day, a purpose, and a team that had his back as long as Coulson was his handler. He’d hoped to stay until Coulson retired but that had been a dream at best. They all knew they probably wouldn’t live to retirement age.

Coulson was the best thing that had ever happened to Clint. He took a burnt out assassin/mercenary and turned him into one of the best agents to ever work with Shield. He gave Clint a safe haven, a mission, and a place to heal.

He’d spent the last ten years at Shield earning the right to work beside elite soldiers the world over and with Coulson dead it apparently meant rather little. He hadn’t slept in a bunk on base since the Battle of Manhattan, not even his quarters were safe from those convinced he’d betrayed the agency.

To those that had survived he was at best, just a Red Tag, a shifter who didn’t know his place. At worst he was the traitor who had lead Loki into Shield and caused so many of their fellow agents deaths. Even Hill looked at him with pity and disgust ever since Loki, it made him regret pulling that shot when he’d had her in his sights.

He’d known that Fury would only back him as long as he was useful and Coulson had a use for him. Coulson took care of the agents under him so he hadn’t worried about it too much. Not that he was back in the agent pool Fury had no use for him outside of using his presence to piss off the World Council that Clint wasn’t supposed to know about.

“Move it Red Tag,” an agent snarled shoving him hard enough to knock him to his knees on the way out of the gym.

Shifter agents wore red dog tags to mark them for special medical treatment if they became injured and it quickly became Clint’s most hated slur.Most shifters were seen less then useless since they were little more than mildly intelligent animals in their other form. Clint’s tag marked him as a crippled shifter, useless for missions, since he refused to give that final piece of himself away. It was the one clause he’d fought for in his contract, they could list him as whatever they wanted but he’d never shift on a mission unless it was a 100% failure with no chance of survival otherwise.

He’d accepted the move to Avenger’s tower without much of a fuss. At least there he wouldn’t be forced to sleep in the vents every night. Grabbing his bike he headed to the tower hoping the rest of the team had already arrived, he never felt comfortable wandering around the tower alone.

He’d been relieved that Rodgers had at least seemed neutral to shifters. That didn’t last past the first time Clint openly snarled at the man. Not that he should have had to warn off another soldier from casually grabbing his shoulder without warning, especially right after getting Loki out of his head.

They were crowded around the long bar on the common floor drinks and snacks scattered around while they each worked on something, the original meeting had been dispensed with hours ago. Clint shifted in his seat, one foot pressed against the table as he fiddled with several damaged arrows he planned to rework. He needed to leave a flyer for nonstandard seating somewhere Stark would find it, it had worked for getting Natasha that strange vodka she loved added to the bar.

“So your file says shifter, what exactly do you shift into?” Tony asked with an automatic leer at Clint that he ignored, the engineer seemed to have zero professional settings when it came to working with others.

“Something useless for missions,” Clint said making Natasha huff at him in annoyance, her hands busy sharpening a notched blade. She hated that he didn’t use his abilities to scare the humans around them.

“What? How can an animal form be useless?” Steve asked sitting up, “We used a few in the war. I didn’t know them personally but they got drafted the same as everyone else.”

“Please tell me it’s a bunny?” Tony cackled, “or is the hawk thing a dead give away?”

“I’m a large cat, but considering how much I need to do with opposable thumbs it’s pretty useless when someone is trying to shoot me. Plus shifting that large takes a hell of a lot of energy.”

“But say we had a situation where a cat would be useful?” Steve trailed off trying to work an animal into his strategies.

“I’d either wind up shot and useless or have to shift back to human and be running around naked. Either scenario sucks, Coulson agreed which is why I don’t shift on missions. It’s actually in my contract with Shield that I can’t be forced to shift.” Clint pointed out turning back to the fletching that he was stripping off a damaged shaft.

“Camera shy?” Tony asked fiddling with some gadget he was taking apart.

“Tell you what, you design a bullet proof vest for a tiger and we can talk.” Clint deadpanned.

“So you are a tiger?”

“Essentially,” He shrugged sharing a tired glance with Natasha, predators really shouldn’t be on the same team as sheep.

“No, no, you don’t get to end with that. What isn’t tigerish?”

“I’m the size of a tiger or a big jaguar.” Clint huffed scrubbing a hand through his hair, “but my coloration is wrong and my DNA doesn’t profile as tiger if you run it.”

“So you aren’t a normal shifter, you have more control or something?”

“Something,” Clint shrugged, “Either way, it’s useless on missions beyond making me have a better sense of smell.”

“Hearing as well?” Steve asked perking up.

“No, my ears got fucked in an explosion a few years ago. I can hear but not much better than any other soldier.”

“So rare on the steaks?” Tony asked gathering up his tools while Steve was still processing something.

“Who doesn’t like rare?” Clint said with a shrug shooting Natasha a glance.

“Point.” He agreed, “So dinner? Who’s in?”

“Where?” Natasha asked making her gear disappear like the magic trick it was.

“Here, I’ll have it brought in. What are you craving?” Tony asked with a smile fingers already dancing across his phone.

“So we don’t get to see your form?” Steve pressed.

“Not in the tower, pretty sure cat hair is a bad thing for electronics.” Clint asked raising an eyebrow at Tony in time to see him shudder at the thought.

“Yeah, no pets in the tower, tigers or otherwise. Sorry, Legolas, maybe we can arrange something at Shield.” Tony said with a shrug moving on to the next topic at his usual lighting speed.

“Japanese?” He asked just to be contrary, he doubted Rodgers was a huge fan of sushi when he needed to eat five thousand calories a day to just stay at a decent weight.

Clint tuned the team out as they packed up, Natasha enjoyed playing the game with Tony and the others. Showing them a different mask each day, twisting decisions and opinions at every opportunity. He had no patience for it, he never had. If they couldn’t accept the predator under his skin then this team was never going to happen.

Tony was a control freak frantic to stop every bad accident or event before it happened and twisting himself into tighter and tighter knots whenever he failed. He’d never be able to accept the fluid nature of a shifter.

Banner wasn’t much better. He clung to his rituals and routines with the steadfast duty of a monk. Nothing seemed to rattle him but he’d never tried to get close to any of the others either. Clint doubted he’d ever want to have to deal with a large cat on the team, it would only add stress that he’d rather avoid.

Rodgers was harder to pin down, he seemed to constantly be in a constant state of confusion or an exhausted kind of apathy. His scent hung about him with a bitter taint that stung Clint’s nose, grief and exhaustion mixed with some chemical like ozone overlaying it all.

Natasha was at least a known factor, a killer beneath the skin that would do whatever she had to do to keep herself alive. Shield had thrown them together from the start and it had been thrilling to find another who savored the hunt the same way he did. It was a pity the rest of the team couldn’t feel the same, none of them were born killers. They saw the hunt as a means to an end, not as the only time Clint felt whole.


	2. Welcome to Wakanda

Clint gave up on being rescued not long after he was caught. Hydra snagged him between missions and Shield probably thought he was simply going back to his mercenary roots. He knew well enough how to disappear if he’d wanted to, from Shield or anyone but Hydra was more through then he’d thought they would be. For a behind the scenes network they seemed more then willing to break him if they could just keep him in their custody.

They kept him restrained, drugged, and moved him constantly. He lost track of where he was in a handful of days. He knew he wasn’t in the United States any more. He worked in enough under developed countries to know the feel of unpaved muddy roadsbouncing the truck about, even drugged out of his mind and strapped to a metal stretcher. He was somewhere far off the beaten road this time.

The first few months he’d snapped and snarled at anyone that came near him. It had earned him countless bruises and even more drugs but he kept it up. Watching and waiting, slowly he started to back off, letting himself flench from a coming blow. Lay panting after a blow connected instead of immediately lunging for the next bite. Watch and wait.

Ever so slowly they started to expect less of him. Less aggression, less wariness, less motion. Clint watched them slowly start to talk and joke around him as they worked, forgetting he was even present. Now he just had to wait for an opening. Hopefully it happened before he was too weak to act on it.

He’d stopped counting the days, seasons, and miles as they traveled. Now all he was to them was a broken toy. They started unshackling him and letting him stagger along behind them on the way to the next test, next torture. He waited, five trips, ten, until they stopped watching that he was behind them.

He was death stalking the hallways. Slipping into the jungle with bloody paws he limped his slow way out of the silent compound. At least he could say he took a Hydra base with him if he didn’t make it out of this jungle.

******

Clint limped along the game trail glad he was on four feet instead of two. He needed to find civilization soon, he was too worn and injured to keep hunting for himself long. He finally found water after several days of walking in the afternoon and nights and resting through the heat of the day. He could have been in any of a hundred temperate regions, he’d just have to wait to find locals to even hazard a guess.

The pool was deep and mercifully without any local wildlife making it a home. He rested on a stone in the shade waiting on the sunset trying to decide if it was worth trying to catch a few of the tiny fish he could see flickering in the clear water.

Freezing, he crouched lower as a trio of young men trooped past the clearing carrying a wild boar. They paused at the pool clearly ready to refill their canteens when one noticed him in the shadows and pointed out the large cat to the others. They each made a strange gesture touching cheeks, forehead and chest. One pulled out several cut strips of meat and left it by the pool again making the gesture before they carefully filled their canteens and continued on their way.

Clint waited until he could no longer hear the men before moving to scoop up the meat and limped to the thicket he’d bedded down in the morning before. He needed the food but the men gave him something even better, a scent to track back to civilization. They had worn a mix of army green and traditional African clothing, he had to be somewhere in Africa or a similar country.

He needed to reach a major city to even hope of reaching Shield or any of his contacts. Not that he really wanted to contact anyone. He’dbeen thrown away one too many times, maybe it was time to start over on his own.

Five days later he finally made it to the edge of the forest and the pasture land the hunters had been heading towards. Staggering into the tall grass he limped on. He had no choice but to keep moving at this point, he was too weak to change back and too feverish to get very far without water.

It was late the next morning when he finally found a cattle trough with brackish water. It was close to a hut but he was too dehydrated to care. The owner emerged to watch him drink but made no move to attack, Clint ignored him, there was nothing he could do if he did decide to kill him.

Limping to a large tree he settled into the shade to wait for night. His leg was oozing puss and fever left him panting like he’d arrived at a sprint. He needed to find a way to recover enough to call for help, he doubted Shield would bother to move quickly even if he did reach them.


	3. Chapter 3

“Good morning, Princess Shuri;”The older woman said in wakandan not turning away from where the large cat was slumped beneath the nearby tree.

“Good morning, Priestess Moya; It is an English day, Brother thinks I need the practice.” Shuri said in English with a grimace hurrying to the priestess’ side, “Can I help?”

“Do you know the blessing chant in English? This young one needs healing but thanks to an idiot with a tranquilizer gun he is refusing to come closer to the city.” The priestess said with disdainful sniff, “He looks injured but was well enough to dodge the dart and climb the tree this morning, we need to help him soon before that strength fails him.”

“He is beautiful,” Shuri agreed eyes hungrily mapping the silver marked hide she could see, “How was he injured? No one of the tribe would hunt a panther.”

“He is emaciated, skin and bones, I was surprised he made it this far after several hunters arrivedyesterday talking of the spirit panther they left offerings by a pond three days walk into the jungle. Then Ko came and said the panther was at his cattle trough.”

“He is the same one?” Shuri asked glancing at the distant cattle farm.

“I believe so, they said theirs was injured as well, favoring a front leg.” She said gesturing to the limb that he was licking.

“We mean you no harm, we wish to help you.” Shuri said kneeling next to the priestess and bowing at the waist with the same strange gesture the hunters had used, “We need you to come with us to be healed, will you?”

The woman opened her mouth to chastise the teenager only to watch in disbelief as the scarred panther heaved itself to his feet and started limping his slow way to them. He kept his distance but stopped to wait as they stood and started the long walk to the palace.

“Talk to him, child, he seems to understand you better.” She said gesturing the girl forward and waving her guards back, something in her bones said the child was safe with the animal. This cat was touched by the goddess.

Shuri chattered the entire way back about the palace, her brother, the healers who would help him, and the food he would surely enjoy once he was healed. Clint did his best to listen but he was barely able to keep up with the gentle walking pace they had set. The fever had taken what little strength he’d been able to horde in this last day’s rest.

The young woman ran out of things to say and started chanting the blessing in English as they walked. She watched the panther with sad concern but made no move to close the distance between them.

“Have the guard bring a litter, we will need to carry him the rest of the way.” She said sending Shuri off while she waited eying the panting animal, kneeling to show him her empty palms, “We need to have a chat either way. I see you understand English well enough, skin walker. We mean you no harm, I have not lied to you.”

“Once the litter arrives I must ask you to shift to your two legged form, we can’t treat you as you are without doing more harm. If you wish to stay as an animal we will not ask more of you. You may stay until you are healed or until you wish to leave, we will not cast you out. Your kind are sacred to us, especially with you being a great cat.”

Shuri gasped as the injured panther stretched into an emaciated and bleeding white man with sliver swirling tattoos that slowly faded from his skin. The guards hurried to move the unconscious man onto the stretcher and get him to the medical suite.

“Priestess Moya,” Shuri said uncertainly looking over the scarred man, “who would do such a thing?”

“Evil exists everywhere, child.” She said pulling her into a hug even as she turned to a nearby guard, “Gather a party to search the jungle, he was seen three days away at the water shrine. He could not have traveled much further than another day or two’s walking distance. We will find who has sought to destroy a skin changer on Wakandan land.”

“As you will it, Priestess.” The guard agreed with a short bow.

“Come let us go see if we can help the healers, Princess. He will need careful watching for several days until he is strong enough to move about on his own.”

“You think he will heal?”

“He walked five days to reach us if not more, he won’t give up yet.”

“Those scars,”

“Months of starvation and torture, it will take time for him to heal. Are you willing to allow him nearby while he heals? He will need a guide, if you brother raises a stink send him to me.”

“Yes, Priestess.”


	4. Meeting T'Challa

“What have you brought us, Priestess Moya?” T’Challa asked gave flicking over the emaciated form curled on the cot, “Another refugee?”

“Someone badly abused, a panther skin changer who fought his way out of enslavement. The guards are investigating the jungle compound now. The records are full of such tortures and experiments they were doing on other skin changers.” She said with a grimace, “The healers have done what they can.”

“Will he survive?” He asked eyeing the scar covered back that was more bone than muscle, it would take months for the man to recover the strength he had lost.

“He is strong, the recovered files are incomplete, only calling him a number. We will have to wait for his recovery to learn more.”

“Was he the only changer captured?”

“The only one at that compound, in fact he was the only prisoner. They thought him special and took extra care to keep his identity hidden.”

“Special?” T’Challa repeated raising an eyebrow.

“That is the impression I have,” she offered with a shrug, “he offered no violence to our people, the only time he even growled was when a guard aimed a dart rifle at him. He evaded that handily and it took the princess assuring him of safety in English before he would allow us to treat him.”

“What will be done with him once he is healed?”

“That will be for him to decide but I thought perhaps a quiet guard for Shuri while he heals. You have said she needs more practice with English and while those in the palace speak it easily, few outside of it have a practiced tongue when it comes to the language.”

“And if he becomes dangerous?”

“Then you may do with him as you wish,” she said waving away his concerns, “but I doubt he will. His spirit is pure and the goddess favors his form.”

“What species?”

“None that I would know off hand,” she offered with a shrug, “like the bastard of a lynx and a snow leopard. Silver and black stripe markings with tufted ears. Maltese or blue coat under the dirt and blood perhaps. We will have to see once he is strong enough to change back.”

“You think he will prefer being a panther instead of human?” T’Challa asked surprised.

“Humans are what have scarred him the most, it may take some time for him to be comfortable in that form again.”

“As long as he doesn’t offer violence to anyone here then he may stay as long as he needs, it will be Shuri’s decision if he is allowed on her guard or not.” T’Challa said with a sigh, “Is there any other business I need to be informed of?”

“His marks are hidden now but you should be aware he is goddess blessed, when he first changed he was striped with her marks.”

“Everywhere?”

“The same strips as his panther.”

“Where did he come from?” T’Challa asked stepping closer to examine the unconscious man.

“We will have to wait to see, facial recognition is not perfect and he is probably much changed from his former self if they had him very long.”

***

Clint woke with a gasp and was rolling off the thin cot before the scent of a surgery cleared his lungs. His skin felt flayed when he shifted but he had a better chance of fighting as a cat than a human right now.

“Easy, child,” an older woman said in accented English holding empty palms before him while a guard shifted by the door way, “you are safe, you were found on our borders and brought here for treatment. We mean you no harm.”

“If you wish we can show you to a bedroom you may rest in. You are welcome here until you are recovered. No one will harm you, the guard is for your safety so no-one bothers you until word goes out to all the staff.”

“Priestess?” A young girl asked softly from the door making him skitter back.

“Come in slowly, Shuri.” The woman said turning back to Clint, “Do you remember Shuri from the day before yesterday? She was the one who guided you to the city from the cattle farms near the jungle.”

“Hello, Asa. I hope you are feeling better.” Shuri said with a shy smile sitting down next to the wall. Clint huffed at her slowly relaxing to sit and watch these strange women.

“Would one huff for yes and two for no work for now?” Shuri asked while the priestess walked to the desk to one side and took the chair with a sigh.

“Shuri, questions can wait until our guest is more comfortable.”

“I just want to know if he’s hungry or in pain.” Shuri said with a huff of her own turning back to Clint, “Are you in pain?”

Clint huffed twice with a glance at the older woman. Surely they couldn’t be serious about letting him wander where he wanted?

“Hungry?” One huff for agreement.

“Then we can show you to the guest rooms and have some food brought. The doctors want you on light meals until you gain some weight. You should like the guest rooms they are very open and even have a balcony if you want some sun.”

The rooms are a few hallways and a short elevator ride away. They garnered some concerned looks but no one was willing to stop the Priestess and Shuri. Clint pads along them watching their interactions with amusement, Shuri is clearly held in high regard by everyone but the Priestess has little patience with her constant babble and energy.

Shuri drops to a seat on the bed after showing him the closet and bathroom and making sure the doors are open for him. He’s surprised they are simply rolling with him being in cat form, most people assume he’s nothing more than a beast when he shifts.

“I am sure you have questions, but most can wait until you are strong enough to stay human for a time.” The priestess said as he wandered the room learning its smell, “Several shifter family lines have moved through the Wakandan royal family, those of us in the palace are used to dealing with skin changers as we call them. You will be treated as a guest no matter which form you chose to use. A guard will be posted at the door should you need anything and will accompany you about the grounds. Shuri has agreed to be your guide during your recovery and will come at least once a day to speak with you and show you the palace and grounds.”

Clint huffed agreement carefully pulling himself onto the high bed. His right arm was still injured and would take a week or two to heal enough for him to trust it fully. At least now it was sealed and no longer hot with infection.

“Do you mind if I call you Asa? I need to call you something and that seems to fit?” Shuri asked hurrying to open the door at a light knock.

He huffed agreement again trying to get comfortable on the firm mattress as a young man brought in a platter with several dishes of meat, rice, and vegetables. Shuri stood and quickly portioned out a small amount for him to try.

“If you keep that down you can have more in an hour.” She informed him as he sniffed at her offering and slowly started to eat. He knew he needed to eat to regain his strength but he really just wanted to sleep for the next week or two if they would let him.

A few hours later he woke to Shuri tapping away on a large iPad while muttering to herself in what was probably wakandan. Making his slow way off the bed he headed to the bathroom and shoved the door closed behind him before shifting so he could use the bathroom and take a shower.

“I am putting some clothes by the door,” Shuri called out, opening the door and crack and leaving the clothes on the floor, “You don’t have to be human if you aren’t ready yet. My brother, T’Challa, wishes to speak with you if you are able.”

Clint desperately wanted to stay as a cat but he forced himself to pull on the cargo shorts from the pile of clothes and go into the other room for the questions they surely would ask. Sure enough T’Challa and Shuri were both waiting when he exited.

“I had a meal brought in if you are hungry, I am afraid I must ask you a few questions before we can leave you to your rest.” T’Challa said looking slightly uncomfortable as Clint dropped to sit next to the wall, he could be uncomfortable, Clint needed something at his back more than his dignity would allow.

“What do you need to know?” He rasped wincing when Shuri hurried to get him a glass of water.

“We have the records from where you were held, is there anyone we need to contact for you?” T’Challa asked watching as Clint slowly sipped the water.

“No, no one left who matters.” Clint sighed, Natasha might hunt for him but she would understand the need to distance himself from his past.

“What do you wish to be called?”

“Asa is as good as anything else, I’m not going back.” He huffed making Shuri smile as she stretched to hand him a bowl and rice and meat.

“Very well, perhaps you will be willing to share more at a later date. For now, is there anything you need?”

“That’s it? You won’t interrogate me?” He asked blinking in shock, surely they wouldn’t let an unknown agent wander around.

“No, you have had more than enough of that, I would think. We contacted Shield to see if they were missing any agents and they denied knowledge of any being held by Hydra.” T’Challa said with a frown.

“Shield is Hydra.” Clint ground out, fighting against the urge to push the food away.

“What?” Shuri squawked in shock.

“The ones who grabbed me were Shield, they handed me over to Hydra.” Clint grunted, “Either Shield has been infiltrated or it was always corrupt and I managed to work with one of the good guys.”

“We will need to review our files on Shield and see if we can find someone inside to contact discretely.”

“Normally I’d send you to Coulson but he died in the Battle of Manhattan. Steve Rodgers isn’t my favorite human but him and Tony Stark are outside of Shield’s hierarchy and would be able to investigate discretely.” Clint said with a grimace, “Natasha Romanov is another, but she will support the winning side if you fail.”

“You’ve worked with them?”

“I worked with Rodgers and Stark for six months before I was captured, I don’t know them well beyond the Shield paperwork. Natasha, I’ve worked with on and off for eight years.”

“I will make some discrete inquiries.” T’Challa said watching as Shuri catered to the bald white man, “Priestess Moya has proposed that you work as a guard for Shuri. I am inclined to agree, once you are recovered you can train with the guard or if you wish find another occupation.”

“And if I don’t think I’m cut out to be a guard?”

“Once you are recovered you may leave whenever you wish. We will provide transport to the nearest city and enough supplies and gear for you to find your way.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because unlike many countries, Wakanda believes in helping those in need.”

“Wakanda,” Clint repeated swallowing thickly, “I’m in Africa, in Wakanda.”

“Yes, and if you wish to stay you would be made a citizen of Wakanda and be given the same benefits that any others in the country may ask for.” T’Challa said gently.

“Why would you do that, you don’t know me.” Clint demanded with a growl of frustration.

“Do you intend to attack or steal anything from our country?” T’Challa asked.

“No,”

“Do you wish anyone here harm?”

“No,”

“Then you are welcomed as a valued guest and should you wish to stay an honored citizen.” T’Challa said gesturing for Shuri to stand, “We will leave you to your rest. Tomorrow Shuri can show you to her lab and start teaching you Wakandan if you wish to learn. There will be a guard in the hall should you need anything.”

Overwhelmed Clint simply nodded as they both left leaving the door unlocked. He forced himself to finish the small bowl of food before shedding the shorts and curling up on one of the pillows to sleep as a panther.

They didn’t know what a broken, tainted thing they were inviting into their world. He would stay until he was healed and as long as it took to satisfy the debt he owned them for his recovery.After that, maybe he’d find a good cliff to fall off or mountain to starve on.

What good could he really say he’d done in his years? Betrayed by his first pack, betrayed and abandoned by his brother. He’d worked as a mercenary alone for years before Shield finally tracked him down after busting up cartel selling children on the black market. He’d endured nearly a year of constant belittlement and abuse before Coulson had taken him on as part of Team Delta, ten years of grueling missions, death defying stunts, and feeling like he was finally making some small change in the world. The battle of Manhattan had destroyed that one tiny spark of hope.

Every time he thought he was finding a home he eventually lost it, abandoned and half dead, waiting for the final blow to fall. All he had left was his panther and his instincts. Had he been wrong to stuff down the instinctive mistrust of Shield and its agents? Had he been wrong to endure the mocking and abuse for as long as he did? Had he been wrong to hide his second skin away and try to live as a human?

***

“So, have you figured out who he is?” T’Challa asked joining Shuri in her lab late that night.

“Yes, but it was a surprise.” Shuri said pulling up the files, “Clint F. Barton, code name Hawkeye. He was a known mercenary and assassin before being recruited by Shield and worked for them for at least ten years.”

They both mentally compared the emaciated bald form staying in their guest room with a frown. What had been done to take such a man down? To break him until he refused to acknowledge even his own name?

“He was captured over a year ago, listed as missing after he didn’t check in for a routine meeting and his known housing was found abandoned with nothing missing or signs of a struggle. Shield didn’t even do a cursory search since they had no leads. His implanted trackers were offline and he was known to have removed the regulation trackers from his gear.”

“Please tell me you haven’t hacked Shield?” T’Challa groaned watching as more files loaded and videos of the Avengers played to one side on mute.

“I can’t do that, we know they are compromised by Hydra either way. If I have inside information I can compare it to what their representatives are telling us.” Shuri said with a mild grin, nothing she was finding was exactly reassuring on Shield.

“Fine, but don’t get caught.”

“As if,” she said with a sniff, “are you going to interrogate Asa?”

“No, he gave us enough to find out his identity and to protect ourselves from Hydra. That is worth honoring his wish for silence on his past.”

“Good, I have a good feeling about him. The priestess says he is goddess blessed but he didn’t respond to her, he came when I promised he would be safe.”

“You are trying to tame a wild animal, Shuri, that man isn’t safe by any measure.”

“Then he will make a vicious guard once he regains his muscle,” she said fiercely gesturing at the picture of him outlined against the sky with his bow, “Who better to defend the Princess of Wakanda.”

“Your guards will not welcome his addition,” T’Challa pointed out not bothering to mention that her guard were all women.

“They will once they realize he is goddess touched.”

“Perhaps but they will also see it as him being given an honor he hasn’t earned.”

“He has more than earned it.” She snarled, gesturing at the computer, “He has spent his entire life earning it. Every mission for Shield he held to his honor and would bend or outright ignore orders that meant taking an innocent life.”

“Send me his file, I will look over what we may need to discuss at a later date.” T’Challa said with a sigh, “Don’t put too much pressure on him, Shuri. His injuries may be healed but it will take months for him to get back his strength and move past the tortures he endured in the jungle.”

“I won’t push, brother, but he needs someone to protect. It is his nature.” She said with a sigh glancing over the information for Agent Barton, how had someone named an Avenger fallen so far?

“Be careful, sister.” T’Challa chided her pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Someone like him can kill in an instant, keep your guard up while he heals at least.”

“Very well, brother. I will be careful.”

“Mother wishes to have dinner tomorrow, try not to miss it this time. I don’t have a good excuse ready for you and Asa is not a good enough excuse in her eyes.”

“I plan to spend the day in my lab, I’ll set an alarm.” She said already losing herself to the code she was writing.

“Good night, don’t stay up too late taking over the world.”

“Who says I need to take it over, I finished that by the time I had breakfast.” She said sarcastically throwing him a grin.

“Brat.” He huffed affectionately leaving to seek his own rooms at least for a few hours before he had to be up for his own training and meetings.


	5. Starting Training

Clint settled into his days of rest and following Princess Shuri of Wakanda around through her training sessions and work in the lab. Whenever she had a meeting he was left outside, not that it did much good with shifter hearing.

Today was a training day and he watched as she trained with her guard and kept pace on her runs through the massive gardens surrounding the palace. He enjoyed being allowed to run and chase in his panther form, it had been years since he’d spent this much time as a cat and he fully intends to enjoy it.

When they finally wrap up and he walks Shuri back to her room he follows her inside. She allows it will a raised eyebrow, gesturing him to the office.

“You wish to discuss something, Asa?” She asks softly once he has changed to human and accepted the blanket she tossed him to cover up, it was their compromise for other’s sensibilities.

“I want to start training tomorrow. None of the clothes I have will work.”

“What do you need?” She asked pulling out a tablet to start a list.

“Boots, shorts, tanks,” Clint said with a shrug, “I like being barefoot but it’s asking for injuries while training.”

“Do you wish to join the other guard sparing?”

“Not yet, I need to see where my strength is at first.” He said rubbing a hand over his shaved head in annoyance, he missed his hair and staying as a cat meant it wasn’t growing in very fast at all.

“You have already been memorizing our forms, join the ranks tomorrow.” Shuri agrees easily, “I’ll see about having some clothing delivered to your rooms. Lets go to the lab after I clean up, I want work on some designs for your weapons. Not many are as dedicated to the compound bow, we mainly use recurves.”

“I also use swords or rifles. My aim isn’t dependent on the weapon, the bow was just the most challenging.” Clint says softly as she moves about jotting down ideas and gathering what she needs for her shower.

“Good, we have many who train with a variety of weapons. I will see who is willing to work with you.” She said moving to the door to see him out, “Is there anything specific you won’t do?”

“I would like to hunt as Asa if that is allowed when the guard goes next.”

She looks him over in silence for a long moment, “That will be their decision if they wish you to join them, the hunts are done as a tribute to the goddess, showing we have not forgotten the skills of our ancestors.”

“I understand,” he shifting back to Asa and heading to his own rooms to clean up.

*****

Occasionally the princess or prince requested to speak with him as a human but otherwise he was allowed to be a cat as much as he wanted outside of training. The guard took to carrying an extra wrap of red fabric whenever he was in their number to act as a cover if Shuri asked to speak with him as a human.

It took weeks of training silently with the others before he trusted himself enough to spar. The other guards were uncertain how to treat this outsider that had stepped into one of their honored positions, even if he was a goddess blessed shifter. He kept expecting the hazing and abuse he’d experienced with Shield and elsewhere but the wakandan guard were respectful of each other and himself, granting him space when he needed it and not questioning his every move as he followed Shuri throughout her day.

“Come, we will test your fitness, Asa.” One of the female guards called out gesturing him to the sparing circle with a grin, “It is time you took up the rounds we normally take and we must know your strengths before placing you.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed moving to the side she’d indicated, “What are the rules?”

“We fight until one is taken off their feet and unable to recover, no damaging blows that break bone, kill strikes are allowed as long as you pull the blow.”

“Weapons?”

“Spears,” she says throwing him a metal training spear, not the vibranium they actually fight with which he is thankful for. Something about vibranium makes his whiskers itch and his marks burn against his skin.

They bow to each other and start with the basic forms, blocks, and strikes that he has been mirroring for weeks. Slowly she increases the speed of the drill, the crack of wood on wood growing louder as they clash and retreat. The drill breaks and the pattern twists and reforms, breaks and spears flash faster and faster.

Slamming into the dirt he gasps for air, waiting for the warning strike that never comes. She retreats giving him a bow before offering a hand to pull him to his feet. Accepting he fights to ease his breathing.

“Your endurance is shit but you know the moves and when to retreat or advance. Tomorrow you train with a weighted steel spear.”

“As you will it,” he murmured in wakandan with a short bow, his accent was shit but the effort seemed to be appreciated.

“You will start guard rotation once you can do the same with a vibranium spear.”

“Come, Asa,” Shuri called tossing him a water bottle, “I need to clean up before my meeting,”

Clint gave her a tired nod and jogged after the Princess. He’d expected more questions from the guards but they seemed to be waiting on something so he left things as they were. He had no right to challenge them either way, if they wanted him moved, he would leave without a fight. This was a refuge but he wasn’t going to make anyone else unhappy by staying where he wasn’t wanted.

It took another week of training before the guard finally decide to confront him. Shuri had meetings all afternoon so he is free to wander the grounds as Asa. Only one visitor has suggested collaring the supposedly tame panther wandering at the princesses side, he hasn’t been since.

“I would have a word with you Asa.” The guard captain says dropping a pair of loose pants to one side and stepping away as he changed and dressed silently.

“What do you need, Captain?” He asked sinking back to the ground when she did the same.

“Some of the guard have reservations about allowing an outsider in such a honorable position within our ranks. Considering it was the Priestess and Princess herself who agreed to allow you on her guard I have no issue. I wish to know why you accepted the position, you are skilled enough to guard the King himself should you wish it.”

“Princess Shuri is the one who rescued me, she is the one who saw more than a broken man and argued for my place in the palace.” Clint said slowly sounding out the truth in the words as they pass his lips, “She gave me permission to feel pride in abilities that I have been told were a weakness my entire life. She accepts the panther, Asa, as well as the human hunter. She sees no difference between the two, that is a rare thing.”

“You were never accepted as you were?”

“I could be accepted as a man but never as a beast, those that knew saw me as less because of it. Only a handful ever saw it as a strength and even then it was for how it made me a better hunter.”

“The Princess said you wished to join a hunt.”

“I rarely get to spend time as Asa, I want to hunt in that form as well. If you want an extra hand on the hunt I will go to help herd the animal but I won’t kill unless I am a panther.”

“Prove yourself useful on the hunt as a human, if you do well we will allow you to attend the next ritual.”

“The Princess claims you are goddess touched,”

“So she says,” Clint agreed with a grimace, thinking of his years with the circus, “I was raised by a wolf pack, I have no knowledge of my own breed beyond what I learned as I found it. I know I am different from most shifters since I keep my mind unless in a rage and can control the shift to an extent. I now I am different but if that is goddess touched, how would I know? I know nothing of the goddess.”

“Perhaps it is time you learned, speak to the priestess before you attend a hunt. It is more than just a hunt to us.”

“Very well,” Clint agreed reluctantly, he’d never been a religious person and most of his life had just proven how little prayer could do.

The rest of the day was slow and he wasn’t surprised to follow Shuri down to her lab for more work after a quick lunch.

“Do you have time to talk?” Shuri asked dropping into her chair with a frown.

“What do you need?” He asked taking a seat on the nest of blankets he’d collected to one side, they were warm and comfortable when he was in his panther form.

“My brother thinks you are looking for something here or hiding from Shield.” She said bluntly, “I need to know if there are people who might be hunting for you.”

“I do have enemies from my years at Shield and Hydra would love to recapture me.” He offered with a shrug, “I’m not hiding from Shield, they let me go when they didn’t search for me.”

“Who should we be keeping an eye on for you?”

“William Cross, he runs Crossfire Industries and has had it out for me since I ran an undercover operation with Shield into his cooperation. He swore to cut off my arm.”

“Anyone else?” Shuri asked working on pulling up information.

“Most of my enemies are dead, I’m pretty sure you could count Loki as one but I’m also sure he was being manipulated into the attack on Earth. Someone was using him to test Earth’s defenses.”

“So there might be another attack?”

“Yes, I told Shield the same after the Battle of Manhattan, Loki looked like he’d been tortured and his eyes were blue during the battle, same as mine when I was under the spear’s influence.”

“So there is a third party who was using the Aliens to attack Earth.”

“Yes, Shield didn’t see any way to research further but I’m pretty sure between Stark and Thor we could get communications and information from his own race going.”

“Are you against us interacting with Shield in the months to come?”

“I don’t see a way around it, I wouldn’t trust them with much but you will have to work with them to some extent if there is another global level attack.”

“True,” Shuri hummed, “I’ll try and get a meeting set with Stark, I have a feeling we would be better suited to work on the communication and interstellar transport side then leaving it in Shield’s hands.”

“Stark is brilliant but he’s also fiercely protective, he has his reasons but he’s not going to be sharing everything with you no matter what the issue is.”

“I can deal with that, I’m much the same way with my own technology. There is too much temptation to steal dangerous technology or use it in damaging ways.”

“Most of the others I would have named are dead, Trickshot and the Swordsman, my brother, and a handful of others I earned a reputation with while I was a mercenary.” Clint said with an uncaring shrug.

*****

“Why is it that you are always in the middle of some crazy experiment that no one but you will ever understand when I call?”

“It isn’t that complicated,” Shuri said sounding insecure for the first time he’d heard, “Asa understands it.”

“Who is Asa?”

“One of my new guards, you’d get to meet him if you ever visited.” Shuri said with a smirk as she shifted the last component into place and held up the completed device.

“Like you can’t say the same, when was the last time you came to Paris?”

“My brother doesn’t want me traveling right now, not until our position is settled with the United Nations.” Shuri said with a sigh, “You will just have to regale me with the tails of your world travels.”

The two teenagers chatted about different people they knew and different celebrities that they both followed. Clint did his best to ignore it, he didn’t need to know who Brad Pit was dating at the moment, thanks.Once the call was done he followed her back to her rooms, watching as she flitted back and forth for a while before finally dropping to the floor next to him.

“Asa, you have seen much of the world, will you tell me about it?” She asked watching with a grin as he shifted to human with a hiss accepting the blanket as a sop to his nakedness.

“I traveled a lot but most of it was for work, I didn’t exactly see the nice side of things.” He huffed, “The only place I spent a lot of time was where Shield had a base, like New York.”

“Are you from New York?”

“Waverly, Iowa.” He said with a grin at her disappointed pout, “I spent time in New York though, even went to Stark Tower and stayed in the guest rooms a few times.”

“Then you know Anthony Stark? I’ve looked over some of his public designs, I’m convinced my work is better.” Shuri said with a sniff.

“I know of him, even met him a few times but I don’t know him personally.” Clint huffed “I will say most of his work is about control, isolation.”

“Control,” she repeated watching him with a frown.

“He wants to be the future of innovation, he needs to have at least a basic knowledge of everything around him. I don’t think he liked me very much because shifters kind of refuse to be easily nailed down.”

“What is not to like?”

“He doesn’t like knowing that others are keeping things from him. I refused to show him or the team what my form was.” Clint said turning to look out the window, “Your designs are organic, his are isolated, meant to be used for specific tasks and tools. Your work is more integrated and has multiple applications.”

“When did you work with him, before the Battle of Manhattan?”

“After,” Clint grunted shifting back to his panther form and heading out for a walk outside.


End file.
